So You Wanna Play with Magic?
by 3iggy
Summary: A three-shot that spiraled out of control;this is simply a story about the magic of dreams and how imagination, curiosity, and a bit of boldness can bring two beings together...maybe. S/J
1. Beating Heart

_Eyes make their peace in difficulties with wounded lips and salted cheeks._  
_And finally we step to leave to the departure lounge of disbelief.-Ellie Goulding_

* * *

Magic drifted upon the air of the opera house. The lights were low and the mood was set. Couples danced gracefully in the flickering candlelight, simmering seductively in velvets and metallics. Sarah had waited for this moment for forever.

The music was different than she had imagined, modern and dramatic. It suited the occasion, however. Her dress was black, short, and sassy. She had given up any ideas of fluffy ball-gowns many moons ago. Not needing an escort, she attended the exclusive gala on her own, she always knew the right words.

Hesitating only slightly she tied the ribbon of the gold and black Venetian mask at the back of her head. It tangled with her sable locks. Staring into the mirror of the decadently furnished ladies' room, she held her breath then smiled. This was it, now or never.

Sarah pranced out of the ladies' room and into the crowd pushing her way through the immortal bodies. There were humans here and there, but most of the attendants were of a different kind entirely. She pitied a few of the mortal girls she saw lounging among some vampires in a corner, they were certainly lost souls.

Oddly, the immortals never bothered her, perhaps some magic lingered on her still, disguising her mortality. She had learned her lessons well as a girl who was once caught up in a nightmare dressed as a fairytale; she could spot magic and monsters from miles away. They were not stories in books meant to scare children anymore. The trick was not to run from them, she had read that in a book once, _You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention.* _She had never been good at running from magic anyway, she preferred to face it head on.

Tonight, she was looking to face _him_. _The him_, the subject of her darkest nightmares and dearest fantasies. He was sure to be here, anyone who was anyone in the immortal circles would be at this year's Winter Solstice Ball, she had done her research. It hadn't been easy to secure the information, but a little flirting with some errant goblins had produced more sensible knowledge than she ever could have hoped. _Perhaps it had been too easy_. Sense and sensibility fought over her brain for a moment at that last thought, but sensibility won out and she carried on with her mission. She had to see him just once more.

* * *

**To Be Continued rather soonish...**

**This is probably a three-shot story that came to me while procrastinating over some final degree thesis writing nonsense. It is inspired by the songs which will feature as the chappie titles and maybe a bit of the lastest arch of Pika-la-Cynic's comic on deviantart, which you should read. Enjoy.**

***Quote is from the Last Unicorn, you should read it.**


	2. Cosmic Love

The stars the moon, they have all been blown out, you left me in the dark. No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight in the shadow of your heart. -Florence &amp; the Machine

* * *

The ceiling was alive. Stars filled the vast expanse over head while a rendition of the northern lights swirled languidly above, giving the illusion of being outside in the open. Sarah couldn't help but stand and stare. She felt utterly anonymous in the crowded room gazing at the stars, hidden from the world behind a mask. She had made it to the middle of the room and was surrounded by the graceful dancers

"Beautiful isn't it?" questioned a fair man to her left.

"Quite," she hoped not to give many straight answers tonight.

"May, I ask you for a dance?" the man bowed slightly and extended his hand.

"If you wish," she smiled.

"Wishing is dangerous business," he grinned.

She inclined her head in his direction in silent agreement and allowed him to take her hand, which was enclosed in a dainty black kid-glove. It seemed most of the immortals preferred to keep their hands masked, she was never sure why, she thought it likely that most of their magic was stored within their graceful fingers, so they kept them covered for many reasons, like sheaths for swords or holsters for firearms. Her gloves served several purposes, the most important being camouflage, she didn't want to stand out. It was more fun to pretend that she was one of them. And, there was something indescribably sexy about a gloved hand, at least, she thought so.

The fair man spun her effortlessly across the dance floor, he was very accomplished, but Sarah matched his skill. It was several minutes before he spoke again.

"I know most of the creatures in this room, but you don't seem familiar at all."

"Hmm," she remarked, busy screening the surrounding couples, searching for a pair of cruel eyes.

"Are you a nymph? Or a Siren? A mermaid with newly formed legs? Have you been talking to sea witches?" his voice was amused and jolly.

"So many questions," she laughed.

"And not a single answer," he presented her with a mock frown. "What are you looking for?"

"Why do you think I am looking for anything?" she pulled her attention to his face. It was a handsome face, but why wouldn't it be? His eyes were grey like a choppy sea and a fair beard covered his ageless face while an obviously European accent colored his speech.

"You have that hungry look about you," he arched one uncanny eyebrow. "You are very intriguing, like a riddle. I am sure you are not what you seem. Can we play a game?" he flashed her a good humored smile while sending her into a graceful dip.

"I don't like games," she remarked in a gasp as he pulled her upright.

"I am not out to trick you, this is a night for fun!" he twirled them faster as the music picked up speed.

"If you can guess my name, I will answer a question of yours," he said.

"And?" she asked.

"And, for every wrong guess, you owe me an answer, how's that for fair?"

"I'd rather not," her eyes began to look for a means of escape.

"Really?" he pouted, "Just one guess."

"I don't want to guess or even know who you are," she grumbled, becoming annoyed rather than worried.

"One guess my lady, I'll even give you one for free on this fine winter's eve."

"Alright, one guess and one guess only... _Rumpelstiltskin_," she blurted out in agitation.

His face crinkled up bemusedly.

"Seriously, did you know that already? No one ever guesses my name on the first try. That was a very nasty trick," he frowned in earnest.

Sarah stopped dancing, nearly tripping up her impish partner. "Are you truly Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Yes, and that is your one question, a wasted one at that," he released her hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, honestly," she smiled weakly. What was it with her and baby stealing fae men?

Suddenly a woman sidled up to the still uncertain imp. She placed a delicate hand into the crook of his arm and looked as though she should never be anywhere else. Wispy bangs framed her laughing hazel eyes, which were set in a face that could only be described as Victorian, "Who is your friend dear?" she asked in a lilting voice.

Sarah observed that she was very petite and not unusually beautiful.

"She has tricked me, we were playing a game that she already knew how to win. She guessed my name on the very first try!" he stated shrilly, squinting his eyes ever so slightly.

"She's human dear, you know that we almost always guess your name on the first try, you can blame your own indiscretions and the brothers Grimm for that," her laugh sounded like twinkling bells.

The imp's eyes wavered for a second then returned to their initial state of frivolity. "Ah, how silly. I didn't think she was human at all, I was certain she was a witch."

Sarah sighed.

"Ms. Mortal, this is my Honor," Rumpelstiltskin indicated the lady at his arm who nodded kindly.

"It is nice to meet you both," she returned.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw _him_.

Honor saw the flash of shock and recognition spring to Sarah's eyes and discreetly traced the source of her reaction to a point over her own shoulder. _The Goblin King_.

Her face lost some of its good humor as she left her partner's side and took Sarah's arm.

"You must not approach him," she whispered subtly into Sarah 's ear.

Sarah shook her head, "Why would I?"

"Your eyes are hungry, they are full of stars and he will rip them out."

"Don't even think his name or you will draw him near," Honor hissed urgently.

Sarah was confused. She had been searching for him. There he was..._Jareth_.

Honor stiffened as she saw the steely gaze of the Goblin King lock upon her hastily adopted charge.

* * *

**I have the next chapter chapter planned out and it should be longer. I am very excited to share it, friendlings.**


	3. Take Me to Church

We were born sick, ' you heard them say it

My Church offers no absolutes

She tells me, 'Worship in the bedroom.'

The only heaven I'll be sent to

Is when I'm alone with you—Hozier (If you have not heard this song, you should google it now, thank me later).

* * *

Sarah snapped out of it. She wasn't entirely sure why her mind was misbehaving. She had one reason for being in this room, she had made up her mind, and she would not allow Honor's well meaning fear to fog her purpose. The Goblin King was her prey, though she may have to pretend to be his...for now. _Let him come_, she thought wickedly to herself.

Pulling her shoulders back and rising to her full height, Sarah showed no signs of fear. Her green eyes, framed eloquently by the dark mask, flashed a challenge at no one in particular.

In an instant, Honor was dipping into a graceful bow with her head lowered. When she rose her chin was seized by the deceptively gentle hand of her sovereign. Her eyes, which moments ago were sharp, clever, and urgent, appeared serene and fawning. She was a true courtesan.

"Good evening, cousin" the Goblin King snarled.

"Well met your grace," she lowered her eyes.

Rumpelstiltskin, having finally realized what was afoot, stood warily behind his mistress next to Sarah. His face was set in a cheerful mold, though it was plain to everyone that he did not like the way things were going. His royal relation was a grand chap most of the time, but no one appreciated another man's hands on his old lady. He was perfectly happy to undo all of Honor's prior work of shielding Sarah, in order to draw the king's attention from said lady, by turning quickly to the young woman at his side and saying jovially, "My dear Jareth, meet our enchanting new friend, Ms. Mortal." He gave her a ruff push toward the king for good measure.

Sarah gritted her teeth and held back a glare at the imp's antics, though she managed to catch the look of death that his partner sent him once her face was released. Nothing could be done now.

The Goblin King slowly cocked his head as if to view her from a better angle. His movements were more inhuman than Sarah had remembered, his eyes more feral. No recognition danced within his haphazard gaze, and for that she was thankful. He slowly looked her up and down, noting the places were the shimmering fabric she wore clung to curves. From her graceful fingertips to just below her beautifully exposed shoulders and neck, her arms were hidden from him, but the short dress mercifully left a pair of long legs in view for his eyes to devour.

Sarah didn't quiver, though her heart was racing a little, neither did she wilt under his searing scrutiny, she had faced that before. Instead, she allowed her red stained lips to part and mirrored his body language, titling her own head mechanically, yet keeping her height. A less valiant heart would have been quelled, and lost the attention of the monarch, but not Sarah. She had beaten him once already.

Jareth caught the edge of defiance in her laughing eyes and met it with a wolfish grin. Too late to turn back now.

She ran.

Or she turned her back on him at least. With the self satisfied smile of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing, Sarah stormed away from the trio as quickly as the kitten heels she wore would allow. Honor, Rumpelstiltskin, and Jareth stood watching the young woman slip through the quickly crowding room. No one turned their back on the Goblin King.

"And, I thought tonight would be boring," Jareth smirked.

Exploding out into the crisp night air, Sarah cursed herself for not wearing a coat. _Ah well_.

She clicked across the marble landing heading for a beautiful staircase that would lead her into the gardens of the Opera House. She could see that the foliage was covered in glimmering frost.

"Where do you think you're going," asked a chilly voice from directly behind her. Though Sarah had known that he would follow her, she still felt a little sick at the idea of being alone, and trapped inside the walled arboretum with him.

"Wherever I wish, you are not _my_ king, I do not need _your_ permission," looking innocently at him from over her shoulder, she added quietly and sweetly, "You have no power over me."

She would have continued down the steps except that suddenly a very solid male body was blocking her way. _It must be nice to possess the ability to blow oneself into a gazillion tiny atoms and reassemble them wherever one liked in the blink of an eye_, she thought.

"What did you say?" his expression was unreadable, but his eyes were ice cold.

"You are not my king," she brazenly ducked beneath one of the arms barring her passage and skipped the last two steps. Landing upon a brick pathway, she followed its winding journey all the way to its end beside a frozen fountain.

Jareth appeared slowly on the opposite side of the water feature. He watched the intriguing creature as she moved away from him. She had to be unbelievable cold, but her body did not betray her. She didn't shiver or attempt to warm herself. Instead, she watched him wearily, like a cornered jungle cat. After a few moments, she turned her back to him once more, an action that thoroughly bewildered him. He was accustomed to lowered gazes and avoided eye contact, but others liked to know exactly where he was.

Taking his time, he stalked around the fountain, keeping some distance between them. The woman's vibrant green eyes blazed at him from behind the delicately crafted mask. They were cruel eyes. She was dangerous, and that didn't bother him.

Slowly she turned her body toward him. With hands on her hips she closed the distance between them slightly and then proceeded to peel the gloves from her fingers revealing immaculately well-kept hands.

A playfully seductive look washed over her face as she gathered the gloves in a single hand that found its way back to her hip.

"Would you like for me to show you your dreams, your majesty?" While her face smiled suggestively, her bitter eyes betrayed her.


	4. Dark Horse

I knew you were, You were gonna come to me, And here you are, But you better choose carefully,Cause I am capable of anything, Of anything and everything...Make me your one and only, But don't make me your enemy. So you wanna play with Magic? Boy, you should know what you're fallin' for. Baby, do you dare to do this? 'Cause I'm coming atcha like a dark horse.-I prefer the acoustic version myself by Maddi Jane

* * *

Jareth did not reply, he simply watched the woman force her gloves into the bodice of her dress and turn toward the still fountain. He waved a hand and thawed the water in time for her to gracefully scoop a handful of the simmering liquid. He noticed that the water did not escape the spaces between her fingers and that it did not drip off her hands.

Sarah had picked up a little white magic from some witches in her poetry club at college. _She could do a few tricks._

"Breathe into the water," she instructed him.

Keeping his gaze level with hers, Jareth enclosed her hands within his own and obliged her. Sarah shivered at his touch and cursed inwardly as an amused glint flashed in his eyes. Breathlessly, she withdrew her hands and turned her wrists so that the water fell from her hands-a sparkling puff of smoke that shimmered out like stardust.

"You don't have dreams," she replied unemotionally.

"I do not," he said in a level voice, watching.

"I suppose that shouldn't surprise me...neither do I," she sighed and began to circle around the fountain away from him once more. Her alluring back was presented to his suspicious eyes again.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," he crossed his black clad arms.

"I assure you, I do not dream. My dreams were forfeit in the careless days of my youth," she stepped up onto the concrete edge of the fountain and gave him a dramatic bow, balancing easily.

"Tell me," he commanded softly. Now they were getting somewhere he thought, after all he was the King of Dreams, the Lord of the Labyrinth.*****

"I was a spoiled child who did not like to take care of my baby brother. So one night, when I was particularly selfish and cruel, I wished him away to the castle beyond the goblin city where the Goblin King would keep him forever, turning him into a goblin."

Jareth continued to listen.

"The goblin king offered me my dreams in exchange for wishing away my brother, he is_ever_ so generous," she drawled sarcastically, "but I could not accept them. Instead, I spent thirteen-scratch that-ten hours wandering about a labyrinth eventually finding my way to the castle. I rescued my brother, but that act cost me my dreams, literally. I've not had a dream since that day, instead my sleep is continually disrupted by nightmares."

Jareth smiled pitilessly at her.

Before she could react he was beside her trapping the woman between himself and the cold fountain. He locked one arm around her tightly so that she could go nowhere. Her face fell momentarily, revealing her very true fear, but she recovered quickly and glared up into his, leering...but admittedly beautiful face.

Slowly, with much more grace than a leering man should ever possess, he pulled the mask from her face with one hand and it disappeared.

"Oh, Sarah," his voice was pure venom. "You shouldn't be here."

"I want to make a deal with you," she hated that he was so close that she had to throw her head back in order to speak. Her fisted hands pushed against his solid chest, trying to keep some distance between them. If she struggled, she would end up in the freezing fountain directly behind her.

"So you want to play with magic do you?" his mocking eyes danced. Jareth had not thought much about the young girl who had survived his labyrinth. It was not in his nature to dwell on the past, but now that she was so charmingly glaring within his grasp, he certainly remembered.

"Sarah Williams, what could you possibly posses that I would want," he snarled.

"I'll grant you a wish," some of her assuredness faltered. She knew how silly she sounded.

Jareth's face was unreadable, almost like he was considering something.

Sarah decided to switch tactics.

Slowly she unfurled the long fingers of her hand so that they were splayed across his chest. One hand slowly moved up to rest behind his neck and she leaned into him shifting onto the tips of her toes. Quickly-before she lost her nerve-she lightly kissed the warm column of his neck and then his jawline, finishing at the sensitive place below his ear. To her great dismay, she felt her own blood begin to boil, she hadn't counted on that.

He did not respond with either a sound or a movement. Only his soft breathing and the rhythmic beat of his pulse informed her of his being alive at all. Embarrassment clutched her very soul. _Things were not going to plan._ Sighing inwardly, she brought her hand back to its former position, followed quickly by her forehead, which rested upon his chest. It may have been utter desperation that drove her to hide from him within the folds of his own shirt.

Gently, he slid a hand into the mass of dark hair at the back of her neck and pulled so that she had to look up at him. "Are you giving up already?" his look was dark and dangerous. "I don't remember you being so easily dissuaded."

Suddenly, his lips were on her exposed shoulder. She couldn't think fast enough to even protest. He attacked her collarbone and wrecked havoc along the delicate line of her throat. Then his eyes were level with hers and he drew his face ever closer to her own. His mouth hovered above hers for just long enough for her to realize she wanted him to kiss her. She closed the distance and he preceded to turn her into a panting, reckless, mess of nerves...then he was gone.

She stumbled slightly, losing the leverage that his person had afforded her. When she regained her balance she looked around frantically, catching sight of him at the end of the path several feet away from her. The moonlight caressed his fair skin and pale hair, he looked to her like the picture of a poetic pirate...dangerous and lovely.

He was calm, not gasping desperately to fill starved lungs with air as she was. Standing as straight as possible she simply stared at him.

Tilting his head and smiling in a wickedly infuriating manner he winked at her, "That is how you seduce someone, my dear."

Though his voice and posture were casual and unaffected, she could clearly see that his pupils were, for the moment, the same size, both dilated, she was not the only one feeling particularly stimulated.

"Sarah, I believe there are stars in your eyes," he smiled leaning in closer to her once more.

"So I've been told, would you like to have them?" she glared dangerously, recovering from his attack.

"Not at the moment," his face rearranged itself to a more serious setting.

"Tonight is not a time for business, love." He extended a hand to her, "Come, return to the party. Dance with me until the sun rises and then, eventually, I will consider your proposition. But, I will do so in my own time and within my own terms."

She eyed his gloved hand suspiciously, but took it. Within the space of a blink, they were both beneath the false stars and flickering lights of the Opera House, dancing.

* * *

***That line is from Subtilior's _Thrice Upon a Dream_...which is terrifying and wonderful, but sadly unfinished. **

**Thank you for the reviews and such. I am trying something that it a little outside of my comfort zone, I usually write things that are fluffy and funny. So, feedback is very much welcome and thank you for reading. **


	5. Habits

Can't go home alone again  
Need someone to numb the pain  
You're gone and I gotta stay  
High all the time.-Habits

* * *

She could tell that is was time to wake up, but she didn't want to. Rolling over sluggishly, she winced open an eye to investigate the alarm clock.

4:00pm

"Oh, good grief," she had slept all day. She huffed and let her heavy arms drop back onto the blanket. Staring at the ceiling she tried to remember how she got home? How she got undressed? How she got into bed? Why did she feel as though she had a hangover?

_Fruit_.

She sat up and glared angrily about the room. The motion made her sick so she shoved her head into her hands and rested them upon her knees.

Eventually, memories played across the back of her eyelids. Dancing..._with Jareth_. Laughing. .._with Jareth_. Hours and hours..._thirst_.

"Trust me," he had said, handing her a glass. She drank it. _She was so thirsty_. More dancing and then...more drinks...and a _peach_.

"This will help you sleep," his eyes had laughed and she took it giggling. _Giggling!_

_Ugh._

He got her drunk on fairy juice and then drugged her with another peach.

"Stupid stupid stupid," she chanted while throwing the covers off of herself.

Heading into the bathroom, she spied her dress lying on the bedroom floor, she was in her shift. "I don't even want to know," she shook her head and turned on the water, splashing it over her face.

She showered and dressed herself in tights and a button down shirt then sunk onto the couch, exhausted by her efforts. Never ever would she dance until dawn again, she swore sourly while scarfing down a cold slice of pizza.

After mindlessly singing along with the poetic madness that is the _Moulin Rouge!_ she pulled herself off of the sofa as well as away from the television and meandered over to the window. It was dark outside. She pulled the window open and stuck her head out, relishing in the cold air.

After a moment she swung around with flashing eyes, dramatically smirking at an invisible person. With an exaggerated air she spoke out loud with hands on her hips, "_That is how you seduce someone, my dear_."

She pulled her elbow up to her nose in a fairly good impression of Count Dracula, "_Now come! Tonight is no night for business_," with a wicked wrist twirl, "_Dance with me...bladdy blah_."

Suddenly, she dashed across the room and dimmed the lights then began waltzing with her invisible partner.

"_So Sarah, how are finding my new method of torture_?" her practiced smile was eerily similar to that of the king she mocked.

In her own voice, "It's a piece of cake. There's nothing that I like better than being hustled across a dance floor for an eternity, your majesty."

"_Ah, well let's see how you like this little slice_," once again in her Goblin King voice.

"_Drink this fairy juice. Trust me, why shouldn't you_?"

"I couldn't possibly think of a single reason."

"_Good have another, you do look quite parched_."

"Don't mind if I do."

"_An another…_"

"Of course."

"_And, here's a drugged peach while you're at it. Good girl_."

BAH!

She collapsed onto her bed in a fit of giggles, amused by her own exaggerated dramatization.

"I suppose it could've been worse," she sighed.

Rolling over, Sarah stared at the black dress lying on the floor and a final hazy memory rushed back to her.

He _puffed_ her home after watching the red sun rise into the pink morning sky. She was dizzy with treasonous peach and treacherous punch and honest exhaustion. He had held her upright while the world spun around.

"Where's my shoes," she mumbled.

"How should I know, they are your shoes," he smirked.

"I told you not to forget them," she grumbled.

"Forgive me for once again failing to live up to your expectations."

"Doesn't matter, I bought them on sale."

"Perfect, now get to bed," he said.

"Can't...dress too tight," she fell against him.

"I'm not complaining, but I see your point," unceremoniously he undid the button at the back of her dress and pulled the zipper.

"Arms up, my dear" he said far too cheerfully for having been up all night.

_"Hmm,"_ she muttered.

Without much trouble he lifted the garment up over her head and discarded it onto the floor then ungraciously tossed her on the turned down bed, pulling the cover over her almost as an afterthought.

Before he could vanish, she asked him a final question.

"When will I see you again?"

Donning a cheshire grin he leaned down beside her and pushed a strand of hair behind an ear, "In your dreams, dearie."

Then he was gone and she fell into a blissfully nightmare free, peach induced sleep.

"I may never see him again," she sighed. She didn't mind the thought of not encountering his arrogant face, that would be lovely, but she wanted those dreams back. There had been great risk in confronting him, she still felt that there may be ramifications for her actions. The Goblin King was unpredictable, that was why she had needed to talk with him at the party, a kind of neutral ground, though it felt as if she were on his turf even then. One thing she could not do was summon him, that put her too much within his power. She could not afford to play his games.

She was growing tired, but kept thinking, sleep was her enemy, more so even than Jareth. But, slowly she drifted away, still needing to recuperate from all the dancing.

* * *

_Then the nightmare began._

Sarah's face rested upon a cold and slimy cement floor. The rough bumps rubbed against her skin in the annoying way that only concrete could. Hoisting herself up onto hands and knees, she looked around.

"Oh no," she whispered.

Dim florescent lights shined dully upon a swimming pool covered in a dark tarp. The shadowy corners of what must've been a high school gym glared back at her ominously. Chlorine filled the air. Sarah swallowed hard, knowing what would come. She had lived this particular nightmare many times and it never changed.

She jumped up shivering as her barefeet made contact with the cold floor. The lights flickered and a mound began to rise up in the middle of the covered pool. Another flicker, and her heart sped up, she broke out in a cold sweat. A clearly man-shaped creature lurked beneath the tarp and it was slowly turning its unseen face in her direction.

The lights went out again, only for a second, and the creature had moved closer to her edge of the pool. Sarah ran.

She ran to door of the gym, which she knew would be locked. Pounding upon the door in fierce desperation, tears welled up in her eyes as the smell of chlorine intensified, she turned pressing her back into the unrelenting steel. The creature drew nearer and the lights continued to flicker, leaving her in unknowing darkness.

Each time the lights failed, the pool grew larger, pulling Sarah closer to the phantom. She made herself as small as possible, pressing her face into the door as she sank to the ground. Hugging her arms around her knees, she whimpered out of fear. It became harder to breathe as the smell of chlorine enveloped her.

Everything went black, and the only sounds were that of lapping water and her sobbing. She waited, on the verge of sheer and utter panic, knowing what was next.

A cold and boney hand shot out of the water and clawed into her ankle, jerking her toward the water waiting beneath the tarp. Sarah's nails scrapped helplessly along the concrete as she screamed and kicked, trying to evade her captor. Half of her body had been dragged into the soul-chilling water when she heard a voice. The voice was out-of-place, but familiar.

"It's only a dream, Sarah. Nothing more. Come to me."

Suddenly, a round orb rolled in front of her just as her torso was yanked into the frightful pool. She grabed the crystal as she sank into the water.

The skeletal creature guarding the pool tried to pull her further down into the midnight waters. Her eyes stung and water filled her lungs as she screamed, but the crystal glowed eerily, threateningly, and the creature let her go, drifting away from her.

Sarah kicked her legs wildly, she'd never learned to swim, she grasped the crystal with all her might and dug helplessly at the pool's wall. With great effort, she managed to dog paddle her way up to the surface.

Gasping for air she pulled herself out of the pool and scrambled away from it as fast as her slippery limbs would take her. She ran for the door, holding the crystal to her heart, and finally, for the first time, it opened.

Gingerly, the crystal leapt from her wet hands and traveled down a dark corridor. Sarah ran after it like a desperate creature. Rounding a corner too quickly, trying to keep up with the orb, she stumbled and fell upon her hands and knees. Looking up, out of breath, fear radiating from every pore in her body, she realized that she had ran right into the lair of the Goblin King.

* * *

**Hello, friendlings. Did any of you recognize the scene of Sarah's nightmare? It's from an episode of Are you Afraid of the Dark (The Tale of the Dead Man's Float) that has often haunted me, seriously, it was scary. I sincerely hope that you found it frightening.**


	6. Heroes

I will be king, and you...you will be queen. Though nothing will drive them away, we can beat them, just for one day. We can be heroes just for one day. You can be mean, and I'll drink all of the time 'cause we're lovers and that is a fact, yes we are lovers and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together, we can steal time just for one day. We can be heroes forever and ever. Whatcha say?-David Bowie

* * *

Sarah kneeled, soaking wet and gasping for air, upon the smooth stone floor of Jareth's throne room. He lounged nonchalantly before her with an amused look on his dastardly face.

"Sarah, we've moved past the whole cowering before me thing, don't you think? Though I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't enjoy the sight."

She hated nightmares and pools. She hated wearing wet clothing, and she hated him. It showed plainly upon her face that he was moving toward the top of the list of hate.

"Oh dear, have I said something wrong?"

There was no way that she would rise to his baiting. Inhaling deeply to calm her overworked nerves, she sat back upon her heels and pulled her hair to one side. Quietly, she worked the mass of sickening chlorine scented hair into a tight braid. When she was finished she picked up the crystal that had guided her to him and walked over to a large round window, avoiding him completely.

"There was once a time when I couldn't beg you to accept that," he spoke into her ear. _She did not flinch_.

"You seem intent on keeping it this time, I see."

"I loath you," she looked over her shoulder into his beautiful face.

"Oh come now. There is no need to be mean."

"Me mean! Are you serious? You sadistic monster. You just sat there watching me, scarred out of my wits, and did nothing until it was nearly too late!" she growled and turned to push him roughly.

A look of confusion passed swiftly across his jagged features then he leered, as only a Goblin King can leer, and spoke softly, "Sarah, your problem is that you are always afraid of the wrong things. Why should you fear a nightmare, a creation of your own mind, and not fear me?"

Sarah really looked at him for the first time since entering the throne room. He stood before her stripped of the refinements required of the ball. Her breath caught slightly as she realized that his chest was fully exposed by his unfastened shirt. He was dressed so plainly, but that fact emphasized his rather supernatural features, rendering him far more fearsome than before. Gone was the poet, all that remained was pirate. More than mere appearances, here in the land of dreams, he seemed to hum with power, _this was truly his world_.

Licking her lips she turned her face away from his gaze before he could collect her thoughts. "I was so afraid," she fumbled with the crystal, but didn't apologize and didn't back down.

Bringing a gloved finger to his lips he regarded her for a moment, and suddenly she was dry once more.

"Thank you," she said stiffly.

"You're welcome. Now come speak with me. I don't understand why everything has to be so dramatic between you and I. Every situation is a matter of life or death or something," he waved a wrist dismissively.

"Mortals," he shook his head as if that explained everything.

"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed leaning against the stone opening of the window.

She had been too preoccupied with the crystal and being angry to notice the view. The labyrinth stretched out in a neat circular pattern away from the castle. Mountains were lit by moonlight in the distance and she even thought that she saw the shimmer of an ocean. It had to be an ocean, the stars were reflected in it!

The landscape was painted in purples and blues, there were stars of ever color and she was fairly certain that the silhouette of a dragon had just passed across the moon on its way to the mountains. "Oh my," she breathed.

"What _are_ you looking at?" He questioned, puzzled by her sudden change of mood.

"This, is this your dream? Oh, it looks like you, wild and beautiful..." she awed, not even embarrassed by her own candidness.

"Sarah, you know that I don't dream. We've covered that already," only his roguish grin belied the fact that he enjoyed being called wild and beautiful by a fair maiden.

He pressed in close to her and frowned. "It's just the labyrinth Sarah. I've added some things since the last time you were here, but it's still the same."

"May I just stand here for a while? I've never seen anything so wonderful. Does it look like this every night? Nothing this enchanting has appeared in my sleep ever."

Jareth watched her, quite charmed by this new facet of her personality. Waving a hand he dimmed the candles slightly to aid her viewing. He had always found it hard to deny her anything.

"You can stay there for as long as you like, but why don't you sit?" He swiftly picked her up and placed her comfortably in the sill, resting his forearms beside her.

"Thanks," she said, though if she didn't mind ruining the current civility of the situation, she would have grumbled about being man handled.

They remained there in silence for a while.

"Sarah, I am not holding your dreams for ransom," he looked out into the distance.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I didn't take them from you. I am not sure why you've only had nightmares since the last time you saw me, which is severely unflattering by the way, but I am not responsible."

"Why didn't you say so at the ball!" She rounded on him.

"Because."

She stared, waiting for him to go on.

"I was curious," he shrugged. "You know, we are not so different. Both curious, both stubborn, and let's face it, we are both prone to dramatics," he grinned disarmingly up at her. "Anyway, I can still help you where dreams are concerned, they are one of my many areas of talent."

"I know," she squinted.

"Keep the crystal, ward off your phantoms, and sleep well," he moved away from the window back into the darkened throne room.

"At what cost, Jareth?" she clicked her nails against the lovely glass orb.

"You said you'd grant me a wish," he looked earnestly at her.

"I did," she conceded. "What do you want?"

"So we have a deal? You keep the crystal and I get my wish?" his eyes drilled into hers.

In a voice that sounded much braver than she felt she said, "yes."

"Brilliant," he clasped his hands together. "I'll reserve it for later."

"Jareth?"

"I have all the time in the world to consider what I want. I am not going to waste my one wish, I'll let you know when I am ready," he arched an eyebrow.

"Fine," she rolled the smooth, cool glass around in her hands, fascinated.

Jareth simply watched her. His eyes saw much more than her's did. White magic clung to her skin and hair. It shined from behind her eyes and the crystal channeled it. Sarah thought that other immortal creatures left her alone because of some remaining traces of his magic from her time in the Labyrinth, which he'd admit would be enough, but that was not the case at all. They feared the sheer purity of the magic that drifted off of her. _She was powerful_. Jareth had noticed it that day long ago in the park while he watched her from his perch. She had summoned him by the simple power of her belief in the fictitious Goblin King in her little story book.

While she may have frightened off a less arrogant creature, Jareth had been captivated by her then, just as he was now. He had tried to keep her, to figure her out, but she had beaten him. He would not make such costly mistakes now that she had sought him out once again.

"I think it is time for you to wake up, Sarah," he spoke softly.

She felt oddly reluctant to leave, but she knew he was right. Cautiously, she ventured to ask as she had last night, "When will I see you again?"

"You can see me whenever you like. You will always be able to find me, so long as you have the crystal."

Stealthily, he made his way back to her side and tilted her face up to his own. The pink suns were chasing the moon and stars from his midnight skies. Already the dusky color of day in the Labyrinth was seeping into the very air they breathed. He kissed her awake.

* * *

**Oh, it's not Friday yet? Oh well. (If you see any nasty typos, let me know, I tried to weed them out, but they are much like garden gnomes.)**


	7. Georgia

_A/N: First, I would like to thank you all for reading and the reviews, especially my friend **Smiles** who has supported me the entire time that I've been writing. But, seriously, you've all made me blush ;)_

_Second, I am sorry that this chapter is so long. I blame Vance Joy and Shakespeare as well as my own imagination. I am having too much fun with this story._

* * *

She is something to behold

Elegant and bold

She is electricity

Running to my soul

And I could easily lose my mind

the way you kiss me

will work each time

Calling me to come back to bed

Singing Georgia on my mind

Lips generous and warm

You build me up like steps

Eyes innocent and wild

Remind me what it's like

And I could easily lose my mind

The way you kiss me will work each time

Pulling me back into the flames

And I'm burning up again

I'm burning up

And I, I never understood what was at stake

I never thought your love was worth it's wait

Well now you've come and gone

I finally worked it out

I worked it out- Vance Joy (If you don't know this song, you should)

* * *

Sarah wiggled her toes and snuggled deeper into the warm blankets. The honey colored morning sun swept across her content face as she considered becoming conscious. After a little while, she opened her eyes with a relaxed sigh and stretched.

_The crystal!_

Frantically, Sarah sat up and began to rummage around for the crystal for which she had probably sold her immortal soul. A soul wasn't worth much if it never gets any decent sleep, she rationalized. And, maybe Jareth wouldn't be such a bad master…

Pushing that wicked thought aside she pounced onto the bottom of the bed, digging around quilts and stuffed animals until she collapsed resting her head on the railing of the brass footboard.

_A ha!_

The crystal rested prettily upon the nightstand. Crawling on all fours, Sarah snatched the bauble and flopped back into the stack of pillows.

"_My precious_," she croaked clasping the ball in both hands and staring madly.

"Ok, enough nonsense," she told herself. Rolling out of bed she hastily arranged the bedclothes into a messy kind of neat, one-handedly, for she kept the crystal clasped to her heart. Together the girl and her newest treasure managed to make coffee and eat a poptart while avoiding stacks of sketchpads and piles of books.

"Goblins would probably feel at home here," she mumbled, glancing about at her ordered chaos. Used paintbrushes waved at her from their grimy glass cups and canvases littered the bar of her studio apartment. It was perfectly cozy and cluttered. With a second cup of coffee placed before her, she sat on the sofa amid a pile of thick woven throws and examined the orb that she was determined to call _Precious_.

Precious looked different, there was no way to deny it. Always, the crystals had been clear, when they were not hosting licentious balls or displaying her dreams, that is. But, even then they seemed like bubbles, they appeared translucent. Precious was cloudy, iridescent, she-for Sarah declared her to be a she-seemed pearly. "You have improved in my care, I believe," she whispered to the ball. It grew misty, turning a pale shade of lilac as if that were a reply.

Sarah began to wonder what sort of things little Precious did . _Should I try to make it do anything? Does it have weird Goblin King magic? If I use it outside of a dream, does that mean I am roaming or being charged for additional services? I should have asked for a contract._

Her thoughts brought her back to the Goblin King himself. _She sighed_. He was such a mystery, one moment he would mock her, the next he was perfectly charming, disarming her natural reservations toward him. A thought popped into her head.

"Precious," she said holding the crystal at eye level on the tips of her fingers as she'd seen Jareth do so many times before, "show me the Goblin King, show me Jareth," she stared hard into the little crystal.

_Then it happened._

She was no longer tucked among her blankets on her sofa, with her coffee in her room, but instead the little Precious whirled a small hurricane in the depths of her crystal heart, flashing a vibrant white, and then Sarah could make out a blurry, sleeping, Jareth in the momentarily clear sphere.

She didn't dare to breath. The crystal did not show her Jareth, rather Precious had brought her to him.

"Eeep," she squeaked quietly.

Clutching Precious to her chest, Sarah uncurled her legs, realizing that she still wore her tights and old button down flannel. Even her fluffy blankets and sofa had come along for the ride. They were all sitting in the center of the mighty king's bedroom, facing his sleeping form.

_Not good._

At least, he did not seem to notice. Sarah raised Precious to her lips and whispered, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home…" and closed her eyes hoping beyond hope that those words would send her back.

_No luck._

She tried to explain to Precious in every conceivable way, that she wanted to go home and quickly, but the little orb pulsed weakly as though in apology and did nothing.

"Blast," she hissed silently. As tactfully as a mouse, Sarah tiptoed away from the king and the sofa. Creeping breathlessly toward the only noticeable exit, she wandered into a small room off of the main chamber. It appeared to be a sitting room or an office. A door beckoned to her and she rushed to it. Thanking the stars above that the door did not creak, she pulled it silently together once more and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Precious, this is one mark against you," she lifted an eloquent eyebrow, reproachfully. "I suppose it's my fault. He told me that you would bring me to him. I shouldn't have tried to spy on him. Now, I will either have to tell the truth, or tell him that I couldn't wait even an hour after waking to see him again. I am not sure which sounds more pathetic really. Perhaps, you can think of something better," she smiled at the crystal. It shimmered happily back as though saying that it would work on something sensible.

Sarah could be dismayed only for a moment before her keen sense of adventure took over the situation. She was in the castle beyond the goblin city. _Yes_, her dream-self saw it only hours ago, but already that memory was fading like all dreams eventually do. But now, here she was, solidly, bodily, physically within the goblin kingdom once more.

"Temple and arch!" she chuckled while sprinting down a long corridor, descending the first set of spiral stairs that she encountered, gleefully. The staircase ended in the round throne room that she remembered from last night. She rushed to the round window and looked out. The same view greeted her as before, though is was awash in rosy light. "Lovely," she said to the herself.

"Excuse muh miss, but whatcha doing in here?" asked a puzzled voice from behind her.

Sarah whirled around to face the inquisitor. "Hmm," she drummed her nails on Precious. "Exploring."

"Oh," a pair of giant round eyes ogled her, but their owner looked very intelligent.

"Yes, I was transported here on a sofa, well a love-seat actually, by this magic crystal," she held Precious up for his inspection.

"I see," he blinked.

Then Sarah noticed that about twenty other pairs of large eyes were glued upon her. Some were peering from the rafters above, others were scattered throughout the dips and crevices of the room. No wonder she hadn't seen them before.

Thinking quickly she said, sedately,"If you are all very quiet, and stay in your places I'll preform for you." All she needed was to set off a goblin alarm to wake his highness. Or worse, they could throw her in an oubliette and forget about her. He'd never even know where she'd gone or why her sofa was in his bedroom.

"Yes,"

"Oh, yes!"

"Perform," their odd voices urged her.

"Ok," she looked at the large eyed goblin who sat down very close to her expectantly.

Drawing in a deep breathe, Sarah held Precious high above her head on the tips of her fingers. She set her face in a look of puzzled despair,

"To be, or not to be-that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep-

No more-and by a sleep to say we end

The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep-

To sleep-perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause."

She threw a quick glance around the room. The goblins where all looking at her with wide eyes, fully engaged in what she was saying. _They liked these words._ They enjoyed the way the lady's voice grew and shrank with meaning and emotion. They waited eagerly for more and Sarah didn't disappoint, she threw herself fully into the role moving about the throne room, looking at each of them in turn.

"There's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely

The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovered country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?"

So lost within her own antics, Sarah lunged onto the stone throne in the center of the room. The goblins gasped, on the edges of their proverbial seats, and Sarah's voice rang out, enthralling them all as she forced out the last lines.

"Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprise of great pitch and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action. - Soft you now,

The fair Ophelia! - Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remembered."

Huffing from her exertion, Sarah once again glanced around, the goblins were stunned. They had witnessed their sovereign dance and sing, _they liked that_. But, never had they heard such a speech.

"Bare bodkin," repeated the goblin with large eyes.

"Fair Ophelia!" shouted another.

"Puzzles the will," nodded a fellow from the rafters, knowingly.

Then there was a lone set of applause from behind her. Sarah's blood chilled as her face flamed. She shrunk down in the throne, still facing the awed goblins, then slowly turned around in her crouched position to view the staircase. The only thing that peeped above the stone were her eyes. With those very round, vibrantly green eyes, she surveyed an obviously newly awakened Goblin King. His hair was charmingly tussled while his chest and feet were pleasantly bare. _How can feet be beautiful?_, she thought. She couldn't contemplate this great question for very long, however.

"Bravo, Sarah," smirked the Goblin King.

Then a series of "Bravo, Sarah" s were chorused by the goblins, who clapped enthusiastically after the example set by their master.

She swallowed hard and thought about the options that she had. He didn't look upset, but her performance had enlivened her. Sarah felt giddy and bold, she was in a mood for fun. Dashing from the throne, dodging goblins, she made to exit the throne room and castle altogether.

"Sarah, you cannot run from me, I am going to find you. It's my city," he shouted after her, amusement coloring his admonition.

"I know, just give me a headstart and no puffing!" she called back, looking over her shoulder mischievously, as she made her way to the steps that would take her into the city.

Jareth watched her flee. He was tired, but he certainly couldn't resist a game of hide and seek with such a charming companion.

"Majesty," spoke the large eyed goblin.

"Yes," Jareth crouched down by,arguably his most intelligent, goblin subject.

"She speaks magic words," the creatures eyes grew even larger.

"I know, Oculus," he said with a nod.

"We'd like to hear more bout the oppressor's wrongs, and the proud man's contumely, and

the pangs of despised love, and the law's delay, and maybe the insolence of office," he said very seriously.

"Only the gods know how you remembered all that, I will see what I can do," Jareth chuckled.

"Thank you, oh generous one," Oculus kowtowed away from his liege and wasted no time in informing his companions of the King's promise.

* * *

**And, I have descended back into the realm of funny. My attempts at writing suspensefully ended after the nightmare, apparently. Oh well. **


	8. Wasting Time

Why do you go flashing those eyes at me

You know that I'm eager to please

I've always been eager to please- Vance Joy

Love's a game, wanna play?-Taylor Swift (yes, I quoted her, sue me)

* * *

Jareth stood surveying his dazed subjects. They crowded together around Oculus and chatted in a most irritating fashion.

"Ugh," the Goblin King swiped a hand across his face. When he looked around again, he was in his own chamber, confronted with the very out of place, world traveling, love-seat. He shook his head.

Ignoring the piece of furniture, he strode over to the window and peered down upon the young woman who scurried into the city of haphazardly built goblin houses. He wanted nothing more than to drag her back up to his tower and into the beckoning bed. He leaned a shoulder against the stone, crossing black clad arms across a still bared chest and considered that course of action. First he would nap, it would be nice to nap with her, he was certain of this. He had gotten very little sleep lately, between balls and rescuing damsels in dream-distress, he was exhausted.

"She is exhausting," he said to no one in particular. But, he would play her games.

Catching sight of himself in a mirror, he asked, "Who are we today? Villain or lover? Can we be both?" he added hopefully.

Mirror Jareth shrugged.

"Aye, I suppose you're right," he mocked himself.

"I'll let her get a little farther," he tapped a riding crop against his knee, eager to be in pursuit. She had willingly ventured into his realm, his kingdom, and _for now_, he did have a little power over her. He chuckled softly to himself, remembering their bargain.

"Run, Sarah."

She did run. She ran through the little twisted streets and beyond the wall that guarded the city. Sarah's feet carried her swiftly through the hedge-maze and she found her way to the outskirts of the Labyrinth in record time, Precious hummed and glowed the whole way.

Jareth watched her turn his world upside down, and of course, she didn't even know that she was doing it, _again_. The Labyrinth shifted and transformed around her, it was bending to her every whim. And, she was clueless. He shook his head marveling at the young woman. She was so powerful, and with the crystal to harness and direct her, she was unstoppable. Rather than frighten Jareth, it made him long for her. She would be his this time and they were playing a much more interesting game with stakes considerably higher, although he doubted that she knew the rules. "Patience," mouthed Mirror Jareth in the corner of his eye. The king snarled at himself, "I am nothing if not patient." Mirror Jareth did not appear convinced. The king really despised having his own arrogant expressions directed back at him.

"I am not walking that far while I am this tired. She said no puffing...puffing _tralala," _he rolled his eyes extravagantly_._ "Yet, she said nothing about flying," he tapped a gloved finger on his nose while Mirror Jareth winked.

In the twinkling of an eye the Goblin King was soaring toward the sea and the mountains while the Mirror King yawned and returned to bed.

* * *

**Author cackles deviously as she throws out a short and ambiguous scene that may hint at the return of suspense and re-position the Goblin King as a possibly wicked fellow (though do we really doubt his wickedness?). **

_**Much thanks for the reads and reviews! I love you guys and I hope you have a very happy/merry Christmas. **_


	9. Flowers in Your Hair

So now I think that I could  
Love you back  
And I hope it's not too late cause you're so attractive  
And the way you move  
I won't close my eyes  
Cause it takes a man to live  
But it takes a woman to make him compromise-Flowers in Your Hair (Lumineers)

* * *

Sarah couldn't believe how quickly she made her way to the plain beyond the Labyrinth. She really had not intended to get that far at all, but the sea was calling to her. It sounded like lovely music, and the Labyrinth had truly been a piece of cake. _How did it take her ten hours to get through it the last time?_

Before she could consider the question, a noise, like a faint trace of thunder, drew her attention. Her breathe caught in her lungs as she saw a herd of white horses gliding across the plain. They too were headed toward the sea. Sarah, without even thinking, ran after them. She could not keep up of course, but she ran anyway.

In their wake she stumbled across the rocky ground. How did I get across the fields so fast? She wondered. Quite suddenly, she found herself upon the rocky shore of the ocean. The horses were frolicking along the sand and splashing in the shallow waves. Sarah's eyes widened, they weren't horses...but unicorns.*

"Unicorns," she gasped.

Sitting on a rock and barely blinking she watched them play. "I think I could die of happiness," she crossed her legs and held Precious in her lap. The wind whipped her long hair away from her face and the salty sea air teased her senses.

A white owl watched from a barren tree near by. _Unicorns? _

Before long Sarah's attention wandered from the beach and she noticed a small cottage tucked into the side of a cliff. Nimbly she hopped down from her spot and sprinted up the shore. The cottage was adorable up-close. A little garden filled with fragrant flowers and herbs waved merrily in the sea breeze and smoke the color of heather puffed from the chimney.

Curiously, Sarah approached the front door, but before she could knock, it swung open and a pile of laundry ran into her.

"Oofuf," grumbled a feminine voice from the other side of the mess.

"I'm so sorry," Sarah mumbled trying to free herself from a wayward sheet. As she fumbled about, a small woman popped out from under a fluffy white shirt. Sarah instantly recognized the lady.

"Honor?" she questioned.

Honor took longer to recall her acquaintance with the young woman entangled in her washing, but she couldn't forget those dancing green eyes.

"Ah, Ms. Mortal," she smiled cheerfully. "Whatever brings you to my doorstep?"

"I was watching the Unicorns on the beach when I noticed your house, I was just curious," she laughed.

"Unicorns?" the lady leaned around Sarah to get a better look at the shoreline, "Well, bless my soul," she awed. "Um, please come in," Honor pulled herself out of the mess of clothing and turned to aid Sarah. She deftly scooped everything back into a woven basket and set it aside to allow Sarah room to enter the modest little cottage. Before shutting the door behind her guest, she quickly scanned the area around the house, sharp as her eyes were, they missed the barn owl watching from the dead tree.

"I'll make us some tea," she bustled about setting a kettle upon an open hearth.

"Please don't make a fuss over me," Sarah fretted.

"No trouble at all. I rarely have visitors and they are never human, so this is a pleasant surprise," she chuckled in her tinkling way.

After dishing out cups and pouring the sweet smelling brew, Honor settled near the fire by Sarah. Once they had warmed themselves up, she relaxed and surveyed her guest. The young woman wasn't as old as she had originally thought, maybe 27 or so. She had a wild innocent look about her with long windblown hair and a face flushed from the chilly air. Certainly, she was not dressed for the weather, and she wore only a pair of thin slippers.

"What are you doing here, in the Underground I mean, if you don't mind my asking?" she stirred her tea daintily.

"That is a very long story," Sarah huffed.

"Well, Ms. Mortal, I have a great deal of free time," the woman grinned.

"Ah, it's Sarah actually," she took a sip.

"Sarah...Sarah…" the women spoke as though trying to remember something.

"Oh," recognition scurried across her face, "Not, the Sarah who thwarted our dear sovereign oh so many years ago?" her hazel eyes flashed.

"The same," Sarah was suddenly uncomfortable.

"So that is why you were at the ball the other night," Honor pursed her lips.

"Well, sort of. I had a request…" she sighed.

"I fervently hope that you did not receive an answer," wispy bangs bounced as she shook her head. Honor and Rumpelstiltskin had left immediately after their interactions with Sarah and Jareth. She had been furious with the imp and banished him from the cottage for the foreseeable future.

Sarah wondered why she suddenly felt very tired.

"You should go home and not think about _him_ again young woman. It will only bring you trouble."

"I cannot exactly do that. I don't even know how to get home," Sarah opened her hand to present Precious to Honor whose eyes grew to the size of persimmons.

"Oh my," she stared. "Sarah, what did you do?"

"I made a deal with him."

"What did you offer?"

"A wish, nothing more…"

"Nothing more!" Honor stood up and poured another cup of tea. She didn't add sugar or milk to this one, she needed the strong stuff.

"Sarah, a wish could be anything. A wish is powerful. You have no idea what you've done," her hand shook on her cup.

"I don't think he has any ill-intentions…" Sarah did not like the tone of this conversation. It felt too much like a truth she had been trying to ignore. "It's not as if he's evil or something…"

"Ill-intentions...evil. Silly girl, of course he isn't evil, though I feign to know anything of his intentions. Our King is an immortal creature. He is a supernatural and neutral force. Jareth is like...like a summer storm. The rain is necessary but the wind and lightening can be as destructive and unpredictable as the rain is helpful. And you, well you are like a very tall beautiful tree standing in the middle of a wide grassy plain, just begging to be struck," she sank back into her seat with a great swishing of tea.

"I don't understand," Sarah began, panic swelling in the pit of stomach.

"Of course you don't," Honor smiled sadly at her. "Sarah, you are pure and innocent…"

Sarah interrupted, "Hey! I am not fifteen any more, I have worldly experience…though maybe not much by some standards..."

"Oh, don't be simple. I mean you have a pure heart, which is rare thing. Anyone can see that."

"A pure heart? You think that I have a pure heart? Do you know how _he_ and I met? I wished away my poor innocent baby brother on a whim. Do you really think that is the action of a pure heart?" Sarah looked ashen and ill.

"But, you didn't mean it," Honor smiled proudly at the girl. She had taken a liking to Sarah immediately and every minute she spent with the girl cemented her earlier inclinations.

"What's said is said," Sarah repeated the words that Jareth had slapped her with years earlier.

"That may be true, but don't think that he didn't know what you felt. He can look into the eyes and see clear into the soul, the very desires of your heart, and that is what his power is derived from. He sees your dreams, your very soul in your eyes," Honor's gaze locked onto Sarah's.

"I bet you anything that he can see as plainly as I do, now as well as then, that he is what you desire. The pureness of your heart coupled with that honest desire, drew him to you, gave you the power to wish away your brother in a moment of anger, and it is also what helped you to triumph over him. The purity of your heart outweighed its own desires and that is an uncommon gift Sarah. It is one that the immortals do not understand, but seek out. He will have you love him with that heart of yours but beware, love is wonderful, but it requires great sacrifice. Loving the King will cost you much, for he knows nothing of self denial, regret, or unconditional love."

Sarah was about to launch into a long diatribe on the absurdness of loving a Goblin King when her mental faculties switched gears and ran else where, "But, you love Rumpelstiltskin!"

Honor slumped defeated into her chair. "Yes, I do. So you should listen to me because I am incredibly experienced in the matter. I have loved that imp for over two hundred years, but it has not been easy and I did not know what I was getting myself into."

"Oh," Sarah's eyes grew wide as she shifted to the edge of her seat prepared for a good story even amidst a time of dawning crisis.

Honor sighed resignedly, "I was dying in 1803 of consumption. One warm early summer day, as I was reclining in the library looking out the windows morosely, I noticed that things were beginning to fade. I knew that I was drifting out of the world and I had accepted it. Possibly, because I was blinking in and out of that life, I noticed someone sitting in the library with me who had never been there before. He had blue twinkling eyes and fair hair and the most pleasant smile behind a dashing beard," her gaze was far off.

"He seemed surprised that I could see him, so he moved closer and sat beside me. 'Hello pretty one,' he said 'I have heard you dreaming and wanted very much to sit and listen awhile.' I had a very active imagination, especially while I was sick. Well, I was too weak to say much so I simply smiled up at his cheerful face. 'Perhaps, I can grant you a wish kleine,' he whispered. I nodded happily at him. 'What will it be? Do you want diamonds? Chocolates? Ponies? To be well again?' he smiled charmingly," she shrugged affectionately.

"What did you wish for?" asked Sarah eagerly.

"I told him in my weak wispy voice that I wanted him to stay with me. That was my wish," her eyes filled with sparkling tears as she spoke.

"His face looked so confused," she laughed haltingly. "He stared at me as though I were some kind of impossibility. But, he granted my wish. I woke up here in this cottage, though it wasn't by the sea then," she laughed in her bell like way.

"He had fallen in love with my weak little heart, and thankfully, my darling had lived long among humans and so it was easy to get used too. I, of course, had fallen for him at first sight. He is my angel," her voice became serious once more, "But, I didn't understand what I was doing. I died, Sarah. He brought my soul down here, refusing to give it up and Jareth was kind enough to allow him to keep me. I can only venture above with him on Samhain when the barriers between the worlds are thin. I am no longer what I used to be and I may never again see the ones I once loved. I sacrificed much to be in love."

"Do you regret it?" Sarah asked.

"No. But, my darling is not Jareth," she looked at Sarah darkly.

* * *

***I sincerely believe that there should be more stories with unicorns. Additionally, I have a theory that Jareth was a unicorn before he was the Goblin King, if you want to wander down the winding, ill-begotten, road of my imagination, then you should read my story about the Wizard, Bull, and Unicorn. If you do not fancy the idea of a former unicorn Goblin king, then no hard feelings on my part ;)**

***Thank you for reading. I didn't mean to post this so soon, but it practically wrote itself. I am sorry that I am a shameless frequent poster. I write during breaks from work, I write whenever I can...I live to write...when I am not living to read that is. **


	10. Eyes on Fire

_This chapter nearly did me in. Rough sailing_.

* * *

One more word and you won't survive

And I'm not scared

Of your stolen power

I see right through you any hour- Blue Foundation

* * *

Did you now that _darling_ is derived from an Old English word meaning "minion?" Sarah asked after a few minutes of tense silence.

The women burst into a fit of laughter.

"I think that having Jareth as a minion would probably be more dangerous than a lover," Honor chuckled merrily. She could understand entirely why anyone would be captivated by the young woman beside her, she wanted to keep her herself.

"Very true, he would be absolute rubbish as a minion. He would do everything wrong _on purpose_ and then convince you that it was all your fault," Sarah giggled behind a hand.

"Scary thought, that. I have a feeling you would, one way or another, end up his minion in truth," Honor inhaled deeply and returned to her senses.

"Probably," Sarah agreed. "I am not sure what I should do."

"Upon my honor, I am not sure there is anything to be done at this point," she tapped a finger against her cheek. "Unless…"

"Yes," Sarah leaned toward her new friend.

"I wonder if we could trick him into making a wish," the woman whispered, mischievous glee causing her hazel eyes to appear more green than brown. For a moment Sarah could see an _otherness_ about Honor that hinted at the truth of her earlier words.

"You want to trick a trickster?" Sarah said incredulously.

"Why not?" Honor sat back and stared at the fireplace. "I am not saying it would be easy...or even that it would safe. We...or you rather...would have to lure him into a false sense of security, catch him with his guard down, that sort of thing. Then, you would probably need to do some word-smithing or phrase twisting, followed by some outright deception and manipulation," she brought her hands together beneath her chin.

"That sounds like a risky game to me," Sarah frowned.

"Yes, but if you can trick him into making a wish that is agreeable to you, then you will be out of his power, and you will have some control over the outcome of the wish. All of which would be highly advantageous to you," Honor pursed her lips in thought. "He has weaknesses. He is arrogant and proud."

"He is also clever and unscrupulous...not to mention disarming," Sarah looked down at her hands which rested in her lap.

"Do you fear him?" Honor cocked her head, eyes searching Sarah's face. "He will know if you do, he will use everything that you are against you."

"I don't fear him in the sense that you would fear a maniac or a serial killer...I fear him the way you fear the dark. It never harms you, but it steals something from you. I don't know how to describe it," Sarah sighed loudly.

"Ah, you don't have to explain that to me my dear. I've inhabited the same realm as Jareth for centuries. I know all too well how he can make you feel, and it's not limited to those weaker vessels such as you and I. Even my darling fears the Goblin King. I just want you to be prepared."

"I've not agreed to anything," Sarah ran a hand through her hair.

"No, but you are already playing his game, my dear."

Immediately, an impish face appeared smiling in the little window above the kitchen table. Honor frowned at the visage of her beloved but his grin never faltered. Slowly she moved over to the window and threw it open with a bang.

"What do you want?" she squinted threateningly.

"I felt a change in tone when you were thinking of my name, turtledove. I thought, perhaps, you were ready for me to come home. I do so tire of this dreadful existence were you are not by my side. Where I cannot properly adore you and worship the very ground upon which you walk, or at least, I tire of doing it from a distance," he gave her rakish look.

Honor sighed loudly and turned back to Sarah, "Do you see what I endure daily," her wispy bangs floated about her head as it shook farcically.

Sarah tried very hard not to laugh.

"Come in, then," the slight woman slapped the window shut and in a second, with the sound of a snap, Rumpelstiltskin was standing merrily beside Sarah's chair eyes all a twinkle.

"Hello, Ms. Mortal. There is someone hiding in the tree outside. I suppose he is there laying in wait for you."

Sarah's face blanched.

"Oh dear, no need to look so chilled. It is only our benevolent ruler. He is much more approachable in avian form, I assure you," mischief danced a polka across his impish face.

Honor did not look amused, but Rumpelstiltskin was quickly across the room, pulling her into his arms and chastely placing a kiss upon her lips. His eyes were soft and adoring as they perused her face. "I feel as though I've lived a thousand years in solitude these past few days. You are so very cruel, my love."

"And you are very stupid," Honor lifted her chin jauntily, challenge in her eyes.

"I know," he smiled.

"I am ever so sorry to interrupt this rather disturbing display of affection, but may I come in," a cold voice jeered from the now open doorway.

Sarah swallowed hard and her hosts lost a little of their previous joviality.

"Of course, you may, cousin," Rumpelstiltskin recovered quickly.

Sarah's eyes refused to tear themselves away from the Goblin King. He looked very similar to the way she had left him in the throne room, chest still tantalizingly bared by the unfastened shirt, hair a little tousled, and he wore a self-assured smirk.

"I don't mean to intrude upon your reunion, but I've come to collect what's mine," his eyes flashed as they settled upon Sarah.

He noticed her eyes narrow in fury. _Villain it is then_, he thought to himself.

"Come, Sarah" he extended a gloved hand to her. Wary eyes traveled from that hand to his bare forearm and the rolled up sleeve of his frustratingly unbuttoned shirt, they stopped at the icy set of eyes. Though they were arresting, they were also frosted with good humor.

"Fine," Sarah stood poised to take his hand when Honor rushed to her side and yanked her forcibly into an embrace.

With her lips very close to Sarah's ear she whispered, "Be careful and remember what I've said." Honor withdrew beaming unassumingly and returned to her darling's side. "It was so nice of you to pop in Sarah."

Rumpelstiltskin waved good naturedly.

Sarah waved back as she was pulled through the door of the little cottage and out into the sea air.

"You don't have to drag me all the way back to the castle you know," she grumbled trying to keep up with his lanky strides. He did not reply, but kept tugging her along until they reached the part of the beach were the unicorns rested. Stopping so suddenly that Sarah nearly ran into him, Jareth pointed at the white beasts with uplifted eyebrows.

"You did this," though his tone was accusing the expression that accompanied it was deliciously devious.

"What?" Sarah crinkled her nose.

"Do you think that Unicorns belong in the Underground, never mind the Goblin Kingdom?" Dropping her hand, he stood with his own resting upon his hips.

"I don't know," she said simply.

"Well, I do and they don't," his eyes drilled into hers. "They have languished Aboveground for such a long time. I never would have thought to bring them here...I am not sure that I even could have," admiration flickered behind the ice.

"However, the natural habitat of a unicorn is neither a labyrinth, nor a seashore," he flicked an eyebrow skyward.

"What are you saying," Sarah asked.

"Do you trust me?"

"You wish," Sarah said unthinkingly.

Jareth's eyes narrowed as he skillfully caught her chin in his gentle, but firm grasp.

"Sarah, your flippancy with words landed you in quite a deal of trouble with me once already. Do mind your tongue. I wish no such thing, it would simply make things easier," his grin was malicious.

"I am sorry," she whispered. Her face was far too close to his for comfort. She felt her heart began to stir, its beat increasing rapidly.

The unicorns had stirred as well. They edged up curiously to the couple, their cloven hooves making delicate imprints wherever they roamed. A young one, possibly the only young one, was extremely close. He eyed Sarah eagerly.

Jareth deftly removed a single glove as he let go of Sarah's face. She was so shocked by the sudden appearance of his long graceful fingers that she barely registered the words that he spoke to her.

"See there, he likes you," Jareth smirked at the young unicorn. Sarah simply gaped until Jareth's uncovered hand darted toward her own.

"What are you doing?" she asked with wide-eyes.

"I am using you," he snatched her hand intertwining her fingers with his own.

Closing her eyes at the contact, Sarah gasped. Jareth pulled her close to him, she hadn't been so near to him since the ball and his sudden proximity mangled her senses. Too many things were happening too quickly. The place where his hand melded with hers tingled, and the rest of her was far too eager to remain close to the rest of him. It was mortifying.

"I need you to think, Sarah. Think of an old forest with tall trees and streams that reflect the moon on clear nights," he rasped into her ear.

She was willing to do anything, regardless of how absurd it sounded, that would take her mind off of his body against hers, off of his bare chest beneath her free hand. So she thought of forests from fairytales-old ones, German ones, that cakes were named after.

The tingling in her hand spread throughout her body and she felt fragile, sensitive, like a limb that has only just fallen asleep. Her mind attempted to interpret what exactly was happening, but she experienced feelings of being both invaded and drained alternatively. She thought she was going to die when he finally let her go.

Sinking to the ground, on her hands and knees, Sarah tried to think straight, "What did you just do to me?" she mumbled.

"I told you. I used you. Look," he tilted her head up with a re-gloved finger. The plain that once stretched between the Labyrinth and the shore was gone. In its place stood a looming forest, tall and ancient. Already the unicorns were rushing from the beach into the cover of the woods.

The young one dared to extend his head toward Sarah even as his companions retreated. Avoiding Jareth he crept to her side and placed his head in her lap. She was so tired, but she stroked his silky mane anyway. Jareth simply watched, a possessive expression coloring his sneer. He did not like to share.

"They like you. I could have brought the forest into existence on my own, but they prefer your magic to mine, and it would have drained me as it did you," his head swiveled to a new angle as he spoke to her. He pointed at her other hand, where the crystal still rested. It churned opaquely, in a similar fashion as it had done when Sarah first arrived in the Underground that morning. "I've used up all your energy, I'm afraid."

"I think you've killed me," Sarah gazed dully up at him.

"No, I wouldn't want to kill a girl who owes me a wish. That would be wasteful. You simply need to rest which coincidentally was my next idea. You will certainly be more persuadable in this state," he laughed lowly.

Jareth shooed the young rascal of a unicorn away from Sarah and reached for her hands, instantly they were back where their adventure had begun, staring at the errant love-seat.

Scooping her up, for the second time in less than a week, Jareth tossed the young woman into bed, though this time it was his own.

Sarah wanted to protest, but even before he climbed in beside her, she was drifting off. Yet, she managed to mumble, "Keep those magic hands to yourself," before darkness enveloped her. The last thing she heard was his low chuckle.

When her eyes wandered open many hours later, the chamber was dark. She could discern the multicolored stars blazing prettily in the sky outside the large windows. A strong arm was draped around her waist. Slowly Sarah turned over, coming face to face with the sleeping sovereign.

Green eyes shamelessly raked over his deceptively innocent face, in sleep he lost that haughtiness that usually clung to him. Sarah felt the oddest desire to touch him, though she knew that was probably not a good idea. A _devil-may-care_ hand slowly rose, seemingly, of its own accord and pushed a feather light lock of hair from his temple. In the space of a heartbeat his icy gaze locked onto her. His eyes were hungry.

* * *

**Don't tickle sleeping dragons, don't touch sleeping kings. Words to live by.**


	11. Love is a Battlefield

I am going to warn you. This chapter may be M rated. I don't tend to write terribly explicitly...but it is more explicit than anything I've written before, so reader bewary. I didn't want to leave you too much in suspense, I am really not that cruel.

* * *

Both of us knowing,

Love is a battlefield.-Pat Benatar

* * *

Sarah had been having such pleasant dreams, for the first time in forever, and she knew that he had given them to her, somehow. They were filled with enchanted forests, fireflies, and music. Those dreams were made of the same light that shone in his owlish eyes; eyes that trapped the faint reflection of the stars and cast it back at her.

She was holding her breath, waiting, watching. He did not move, but she knew that touching him as she had was outside of their unspoken rules. They only touched in games, in dreams. Yet, she had touched him in reverence, in sincerity, and that changed things.

She was afraid of what she had done. She was afraid of the way he was looking at her and for a moment that fear flickered across her already sleep flushed face. His dangerous look of yearning increased, causing her heart to flutter. It was amazing that so much could be said without words or movement. Yet, he was not advancing upon her, conquering her, as she thought he would. He waited.

Jareth had sensed her, smelled her, heard her dreaming as she laid beside him. Even in his own sleep he was painstakingly aware of her presence. When she had touched him, only centuries of self-control had stopped him from taking what was his. But, he needed her to understand that she belonged to him, he wanted her to give up, to surrender. He could be patient.

Disappointed, she was disappointed, which shocked her. She wanted him to play the villain, to take without asking, but he wasn't going to, she knew he waited for her. He was waiting for permission. In any other man that might have been unattractive, but to have the mighty Goblin King pause at laying siege and pillaging her was somewhat empowering. Then she realized that she didn't have it entirely correct. This was a new game. A very dangerous game, indeed.

He did not wait out of courtesy, he waited because he was powerful and he would be an unconditional victor. When he took her, there would be no resistance, no room for rebellion.

"Damn," she said.

A low chuckle rumbled across the space between them and the tension eased.

_My kingdom may be as great_, she thought, _but he is certainly making a grand campaign_.

However, she could be cruel. "I call a parley," she whispered mischievously.

"What?" he tilted his head owlishly, coming up to rest his weight on an elbow.

"A truce, for a moment. I want to discuss something with you," her eyes sparkled with an impish light that he knew too well. But, he was curious.

"Done," he snarled.

Then she attacked, subtly, of course. A graceful hand moved to his collarbone and traced the plains of his chest lightly.

The only reaction she received was increased pressure from his fingertips where they still rested upon her waist. That was enough to shock her, she gasped and locked eyes with him once more.

"Damn," he repeated. She had won the battle.

Swiftly his hand moved to her cheek and caressed its curve, bringing a strong finger to rest under her chin, he tilted her head up. He kissed her lightly, several times, teasingly. If she wanted to play dirty, he could best her, she was no match for him. He smiled to himself wolfishly as she began to shiver.

Skillfully, he sat up dragging her with him. He straddled her across his lap and repressed a smirk as she gasped and her green eyes rounded in innocent shock. He didn't give her time to recover, but pressed his hands into her shoulder blades, pressing her toward him.

"You didn't button your shirt correctly," he mumbled into her hair.

"What?" she asked, all confusion and shocked senses.

"I noticed it this morning, your shirt is fastened crookedly. I can fix that for you," she felt him smile into her hair, but she could not produce an answer.

His hands quickly moved to her front, and she noticed that her shirt was in fact, improperly buttoned. She watched in imbecilic fascination as his nimble fingers undid every button. Here and there his warm hands would graze her bare skin, making her shiver despite herself. If she had had full possession of her wits, she would probably have died of humiliation at her wanton response to him.

She was half afraid that he would remove the garment entirely, and half afraid that he wouldn't. Ah, he's winning again, she thought.

Before he could do anything about her now opened shirt, she pressed further into him. Bringing his torso in contact with hers. Which turned out to be a rather ill-calculated maneuver, for he rolled her over and beneath him before she could improvise a next step.

"Oh!" she squeaked as he kissed her neck and collarbone, dipping lower to cover the expanse of sensitive skin above her breasts. She was about to go mad.

"Ok, Jareth. Parley is over. The discussion has come to a close. I've more information than I initially needed," she breathed desperately.

His chuckle was her only reply, but he refastened her shirt, properly, and rolled back over onto his elbow. "I win."

"You are impossible," she glared up at his devilishly handsome, and satisfied, face.

The rosy sunlight was seeping into the chamber. Sarah sighed, heart still pounding, body still treasonously screaming for his touch. "How long have I been here," she questioned, suddenly concerned about the difference in time progression between her world and his.

"Don't worry, I can send you back to the right time love, it's not as though I've never reordered it for you before," his voice was softly mocking.

He rotated an elegant wrist and Sarah's crystal appeared in his hand. "I'll even give this back to you for the price of one goodbye kiss," he winked at her.

"But, it's already mine!" she protested.

"Yes, but in your weary state last evening, you dropped it on my floor. Which makes it mine by forfeit," he smirked.

"That's not fair!" she shouted rounding on him.

His eyes laughed with an unspoken retort as he quickly kissed her and slipped the crystal back into her hand. In an instant, she was at home in her own bed, glaring furiously around at no at all.

* * *

**I am not sure why so much military jargon ended up in this bit. I chose the song after writing it this time because of the silly way these two are thinking. Why can't love be easy? _Author shakes head nonsensically._ **


	12. King and a Lionheart

I thought that I would never finish this chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Howling ghosts – they reappear

In mountains that are stacked with fear

But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.

A lionheart.-Of Monsters and Men

* * *

Sarah waited days to return to him. Those days lengthened into weeks and those weeks lingered into months. She knew he was furious, she felt it in her bones, but she couldn't face him again, not yet. There were things she needed to figure out. The crystal slid easily across her hand as she played with it, thinking.

The things she had seen, the things she had done, and not done, were all haunting her, more so than any nightmares. She didn't think straight around him. He clouded her judgment, and seized her senses. Oh, but he was wild and wonderful and he was...alive. He made her feel alive. Every moment with him was full of adventure.

She sighed heavily.

"Wut is it, Sarah?" asked Oculus. The little goblin had hid himself away in the cushions of the love-seat before his majesty had sent it home. Sarah had found him in the kitchen eating cornflakes out of a cereal box on the floor.

He had entreated her with his whole little goblin heart to share more magic words with him, so she had read nearly every Shakespearean play in existence to the stowaway. As she stared at the tiny concerned creature, she momentarily considered asking him for advice regarding her love life. He had turned out to be rather intelligent, for a goblin.

"I'm confused, Ollie," he liked his new nickname.

He nodded in appreciation of that particular emotion.

"I think I am in love with the king of Goblins," she arched an eyebrow, waiting for his reaction.

"The course of luv never did run smooooth," quoted the goblin with a knowing shake of his head.

"Too true, Ollie," she couldn't help but smile. He was probably the world's only Shakespeare quoting goblin and he was the closest thing to a best friend she had at the moment.

He also knew a thing or two about crystal magic. The king made it look easy to control the little orbs, but Ollie explained that it took a lot of focus and precision...as did figuring out that was what he was trying to tell her via a load of odd, but interesting, stories.

"Would you like to see what his majesty is doing?" Sarah asked conspiratorially.

"Yus!"

Sarah held the crystal between them and blocked out every single thought, which was hard for someone with an overactive imagination. After a moment of clarity, she thought quietly to herself, with very particular wording, _I wish to view the Goblin King, Jareth_.

He swirled into view, standing by the round throne room window. Arms crossed, face pouting, he looked absolutely miserable. There was a ridiculous amount of goblin mischief taking place directly behind him. They hung from rafters, and bounced around madly, screaming and singing, and who knew what else.

"The king, he looks sad," Ollie commented with exceptional feeling.

"I don't think that _sad_ isn't quite the right word," she sighed.

Ollie remarked, "I shud go back."

"Why?" Sarah frowned.

"I'm the majesty's favorite," He smiled proudly.

"Are you," she doubted this information.

"Yus, he never bogs me, never kicks me, and sometimes he calls me _little friend_," Ollie adopted a slightly guilty expression.

"I have a feeling you may be bogged the next time he sees you," Sarah frowned.

"When?" he asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Soon," Sarah chewed on a nail. "I have a plan Ollie, and I need your help."

"Anything," he worshipped her. He adored her magic words and microwave oven.

"I need to trick the king, without actually tricking him," she was completely ruining her normally perfect nails.

Ollie looked about as skeptical as a goblin could look.

"How'er we going to do that?"

"Do you understand anything about love Ollie? It is a very tricky business…" she sunk deeper into the cushions of the love-seat, thinking about cookie-dough icecream even though was 10am.

The goblin sat up and gifted her with an expression of the utmost seriousness.

"Luv isn't luv, Wich alters wen it alteracion finds, Or bens with the removr to remov...O no! It's an evr-fixed mark! That looks on tempests an is nevr shaken! It's the star to every wanderin' bark, whose worth's unknown, tho his height be taken. Luv's not time's fool…" his face was flushed with passion.

"Yes, Ollie. I see that you grasp the concept," she giggled.

"So you know that it is important? And, that if you agree to help me, then we have a deal, a pact, that you cannot turn your back on...though I warn you, it is probably treasonous?"

"I wud do anythin' for luv," he placed his prickly little hand over his heart.

"Good," Sarah swiveled around to face him and extended her hand. "Oculus Goblin, do you solemnly swear to do what I ask and not tip off the Goblin King? Shake if you agree."

Ollie had never made a pact, willingly, he extended his hand soberly and shook with purpose.

* * *

Sarah had sent the slightly apprehensive little fella back to the underground with strict instructions regarding her plot...and the strong advice to stay out of Jareth's sight. She did not believe it beneath him to be jealous of the poor little creature based on her prior experiences.

She needed to push his royal highness...to the point of no return…

Her eyes went wide with inspiration.

It would have to be over the top, dramatic. Jareth would appreciate that. Gathering the supplies that she needed, Sarah hurried home to prepare herself.

* * *

Something was most certainly afoot, Jareth was sure of it. Irritability had been his constant companion for several weeks, and someone was about feel the brunt of it. But, everyone was gone, the entire castle was empty. Wandering to a window, he looked out over the city. It was like a ghost town. Yet, he could just make out the glow of a bond fire over toward the Firey Forest.

Silently he dropped in, sulking amongst the shadows, though there really wasn't a need. Not a creature was sober enough to recognize him. The entire city appeared to be engaged in some kind of drunken riot. It was far worse than normal. Hundreds of greyish bodies with a few red accents here and there, bounced about like imbeciles, drinking and eating and being merry, it was absolutely disgusting. He was suddenly very thankful that no one was in the castle. Had the raucous party taken place there...he may have tossed them all into the bog. He watched for a little while, until the sights and sounds began to give him a headache, then he kicked a few clumsy fellows who got in his way, and retreated.

A sense of unease washed over him as he climbed the castle stairs. The moons were ascending into the sky by now, and darkness stalked him, not that he was bothered by the dark. He was, however, suspicious of the flickering lights of the throne room which were discernible from where he stood. He had not left any candles burning.

Jareth walked silently along the corridor, the scent of primrose wafted toward him before he rounded a corner. The great Goblin King hardly concealed a look of true bafflement, as he took in the scene which greeted him.

The throne room had been invaded by candelabras, tall golden things that held wafting tapers that enclosed the room in a hushed glow. Everything was clean, which alone was cause for confusion, and the smell of roses was still shocking his senses. Then his eyes fell upon the throne directly before him.

In his place, raven hair curling about her in a most pleasingly dramatic fashion, shoulders bared by a corseted gown, and eyes flashing promises too scandalous to fathom, sat a gypsy queen, no...a Goblin Queen, his mind immediately corrected. The shear tattered panels of the black dress generously revealed her long legs which were crossed before her. She slouched gracefully with a gloved hand hovering over her red lips, the other rested upon the stone armrest nonchalantly. Her feet were bare, a golden anklet reflected the flickering of the candles. Her gaze ensnared him, and he saw a small spark of triumph flash within their depths, she knew that she had gotten the better of him-for the moment.

"Have you come to usurp my throne, or simply adorn it, my dear?" He adjusted his glove, taking the opportunity to look away from her. He wasn't sure how it was possible for a mortal to be so glaringly perfect. _Was he nervous_, he could feel his own heart racing.

With a wicked smile she stood up, allowing her hands to rest delicately on either stone-arm. "Who says that I want anything to do with your throne, your majesty," she cocked her head, mimicking one of his favorite gestures.

Quietly, off to the side of the room, he suspected from behind a newly installed black screen, came the stirring sounds of a string quartet.

Sarah was completely within her element, she was performing. The young woman had been quite successful in a number of high school musicals, but she doubted the Goblin King had ever heard her sing. She was well aware of his musical capabilities, but she hoped to shock him once more before the night came to an end. She made sure that his eyes were locked onto hers as she snapped open a red fan, playing the temptress. Sarah's voice rang out from behind the prop, hitting Jareth in the chest, he forgot to breath as she serenaded him.

_Past the point of no return, no backward glances_  
_The games we played 'til now are at an end_  
_Past all thought of 'If' or 'When', no use resisting_  
_Abandon thought and let the dream descend_

_What raging fire shall flood the soul?_  
_What rich desire unlocks its door?_  
_What sweet seduction lies before us?*_

As she sang, she sauntered toward him, taking a roundabout path. His face was deliciously frozen. Nearing the end of her abridged song, she closed the fan, and flicked her eyes up to his, relaxing her face,hands on her hips. The string quartet-or Oculus and an instrumental playlist on Sarah's laptop-played on.

With the intense expression of a jungle cat, Jareth entrapped her waist and wrist, twirling her into a quick paced dance.

"Is there no end to your charms?" he snarled into her ear, the intoxicating scent of primrose was coming from her hair, he could barely think.

"No, there isn't. I am an unfathomable depth of possibility," she could tell his mood was dangerous, but enjoyed being the source of his disorientation.

"I should charge you with treason. No one occupies the throne, but me," he purred.

"You have no power over me," she quirked. "You do not rule me. I am not your subject, quite frankly, you're no match for me, Jareth."

Suddenly, the world blurred around her," closing her eyes, she turned her face toward a sheltering shoulder, trying to steady her spinning vision.

The candles, and the laptop hidden behind the screen, though thankfully not Oculus, had been transported to King's bedchamber. Her stomach may of turned itself inside out, her face flushed, and blood whizzed around in her veins at an alarming rate.

He continued to spin her about, shaking her confidence. She may have surprised him, but he was still the real trickster. He brought her in close, a steely arm dragging her against the length of him. The shear strips of her skirt provided hardly any barrier between them, her legs tangled with his, causing her to cling to him for stability.

The smirk had returned with a vengeance to his impish face, his uneven eyes laughed at her.

"What am I going to do with you, Sarah?"

"What do you wish to do with me," she bid her heart to remain in her chest.

He roughly pushed her up against the wall, trapping her, his gloved hands on either side of her shoulders.

"Are you toying with me, songbird?" Though he continued to smirk, Sarah knew he was actually angry.

"No, I don't want to play games with you anymore," she dropped all pretenses.

"What is your wish Jareth," her eyes commanded him to answer.

"It may not be within your power, to grant my wish, witch," his smirk had slipped into a desperate leer. But, her power over him was strong.

The tension in his arms slacked slightly, "I wish that you would love me," he wrapped a hand behind her neck, letting his thumb trace her flawless jawline.

Sarah held a hand up between them, twirling her wrist as she had watched him do so often. Resting on her gloved finger tips, was her crystal, glowing white. It had taken her weeks to figure out that trick.

"Show me my dreams," she whispered, noting that even in this increasingly serious situation, the king still managed to reward her newfound skills with a smile. _He really could be generous._

"This is what I saw in the crystal the night you offered it to me," she placed it in his free hand.

The king's eyes dropped to view his own image in the iridescent sphere.

"I believe we want the same thing, your majesty," she sighed.

"You may be a immortal Fae-King, but I have the heart of a lion. I am brave and strong-a match for you, my love" she cooed into his ear as she encircled his neck with her arms, allowing her hands to stray into his hair.

* * *

And, in the dark throne room a small, large-eyed, bespeckled, goblin sat on a windowsill looking out at the stars, sighing contentedly to himself, "The Greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to luv an be luv'd in return."*

* * *

***Lyrics belong to Webber**

***Quote from Moulin Rouge!**

**Well, that was fun. Thank you guys for reading! I hope you didn't mind the mashing of the fandoms, I always get a little obsessed with the Phantom of the Opera around New Year's, for no perceivable reason. I've listened to the soundtrack non-stop for days.**


	13. Indigo Home

A/N: Caution, lovey-dovey ooey gooey stuff ahead. Turn back if you don't want none of that. Thanks.

* * *

Are you lost in paradise my love, or have you found a home?

It's an awfully lonely road to walk alone,

But as I searched your flashing indigo eyes, it echoed true

That I loved you, that I loved you. -Roo Panes

* * *

The lacy hem of Sarah's dress hit her shins as she walked lazily about the ancient forest that she and her love had grown. She knew he waited somewhere out there for her. He waited just beyond the next bend in the trail, just beyond the mists that tickled her heels, just beyond…

His laugh echoed in the sound of the leaves rattling above her. The stars in the twilight skies mimicked the light in his eyes. She heard her own laughter.

"What are you doing, Sarah dear?" His lilting voice asked.

Oh, there he was, standing before her. _He was beautiful._

"I'm not sure." She smiled, moving to rest her head on his shoulder. "Am I dreaming?" She glanced up at him.

"I believe that you are. You're much more serene when you dream these days."

She giggled.

She softened him. Even in a dream, he felt the effects of her love work upon him.

"Oh well, it is hard to tell where the dreams end now-a-days. My waking hours are full of goblin men, unicorns, dragon skies, and imps for in-laws." She giggled again.

He chuckled, drawing her nimble feet into a slow paced dance. Mist swirled about them in the moonlight.

"I've been meaning to ask you, but I always forget when I'm awake. Do you know why I was having nightmares before? I know that you told me you didn't, but you presented me with a solution so I assume you knew a little more than you said."

"I had a guess. The crystal simply enabled you to change the circumstances of your nightmares. But, all types of dreams are messages even nightmares." He sent her into a graceful dip.

"And nightmares about pool monsters can be interpreted how exactly?" She frowned.

"That's what the dream was about on the surface. You should know by now that…"

"Nothing is what it seems." She pulled from his embrace and pranced into the trees.

He followed after her. "Exactly."

"So what were my nightmares trying to tell me?" Her green eyes drew him after her.

"That you were afraid." He tilted his head, then grabbed at her, but she slipped away.

"Afraid of what?" She laughed as he lunged and missed her once more.

"You tell me, darling." He managed to seize her waist and trap her in his arms.

She ran her hands through his hair, down his neck.

"I was afraid that I'd made a mistake." Her eyes lingered on his lips.

"I was afraid that I thought of you too often, that I craved you, even though I wouldn't admit it. I'd won. I was supposed to dismiss you, to forget you. But, I couldn't keep you off my mind though I hardly knew that it was you that I was thinking of." She kissed him. "I was afraid that you still had power over me."

"And do I?" He whispered into her ear and then trailed light kisses down her neck.

"Hmm, not the kind that is to be feared." She sighed.

She laughed as he struck up their dance once more, only to stop abruptly. "I love you, Sarah."

"I know," she cocked her head. "I am rather fond of you, of course."

His grin turned feral. Her eyes grew wide as she tore away from him and ran into the woods. His low chuckle followed her as they began a new game.

* * *

And, we end in mush. I like my endings 'happily ever after.'


End file.
